Chances, Missed
by da-mouse
Summary: He was just her best friend, nothing more. Times she needed him, he was always there. He loved her, and she knew. -BrockxMisty- [angst fic]


**Disclaimer**: I don't own Pokemon, and that should be obvious enough, because I am wearing a holey shirt, not Armani. *sniff* 

For **ryune**, who begged, pleaded, screamed, whined, screeched, threatened until I gave in to the whim in which I previously only casually and fleetingly had. All flames directed to **ryune**, she made me do this. 

**Note:  
**- OOC warning!  
- Each section is a different period of time, place, blah blah.  
- Probably would not make much sense…:P…  
 

**Chances, Missed  
**written by: da*mouse ®

  
  


It was a day when he finally gathered up all of his courage to tell her how he really felt about her. And it was also a day that _they_ decided to let him know…that they were together.

_We're…a couple._ A shy giggle. 

_I never thought this would happen. _A dazed, happy look. 

_Congratulations, you guys. But I saw it coming._ A frozen smile to mask internal despair and sorrow. 

Of course, he had seen it coming. How could he not, between the two of them? He saw it in every squabble, every fight, and every glare, in every single word or look they exchanged.

But one small part of him kept hoping. Kept hoping, and hoping, and hoping…and even after they told him, even after he seen the expression of happiness on her face and the dopey look of one in love on his, he still kept the flame of hope alighted. 

He was foolish, he knew. 

That day was the same day he decided to leave them. 

"Professor Ivy offered me a place…I'm taking it."

It was a shock to them, he saw it mirrored in both their faces.

"But why the sudden decision? You never discussed it with us…" Her azure eyes were filled with a tinge of hurt. 

"Is it because of…Misty and me? Do you felt like…well…just that you will never be…" The black-haired boy didn't know how to complete his sentence, but the meanings of his words hung loud and clear in the still air of the countryside. 

He laughed. "No, I've decided long before. Sorry I never told you guys…" 

_I've decided to leave if this day ever comes. And so it came. And so…I will go._

He gave her a hug, and it was all he could do not to hold on to her. He ruffled the younger boy's hair and told him to take care of her. 

They were hurt, and confused over his sudden departure, but they wished him luck and promised to stay in touch. 

The last image he had of her when he turned to them, was of that of them waving to him, arms around each other, looking so perfect together. He smiled bitterly then, returning their wave, and knowing that it was a picture of perfection that he could never bear to shatter. 

He loved her, and wished for her happiness. 

-

It was nearly five years later when they meet again, this time at a wedding ceremony. 

_Their_ wedding ceremony.

The groom was twenty-one, and the bride, twenty-three. So young to be getting married, but then again, he never saw a couple so sure of their marriage. 

He was, of course, the best man. He was their best friend, there was no better position for him to hold, even after a lapse of five years. 

Five years of letters, phone calls…but never a meeting. The fact that they settled in two cities hundreds of miles from each other made it easier for him to reject outings, dinners and parties, with the reason of business and inconvenience. 

But of course, how could he _ever_ hope to avoid this? Even though above all things, blaming his own selfishness, it was one event that he desperately wished that he would never have to attend? 

_Selfish_.

He was selfish because he didn't want to share his best friends' happiness. He was selfish because he wanted to evade his own pain. He was selfish because he could not pretend to be happy for them, not when the sorrow and regret in his heart raged incessantly, threatened to overspill. 

"Brock!" 

He turned, and there they were, so radiant, so beautiful. Both of them. 

She was…an epitome of loveliness, exquisiteness and grace, so unlike the loud and fiery-tempered mallet wielding eighteen-year-old he left behind. While he…he had grown up from his Pokemon-cap wearing and Pokemon-master proclaiming days. Probably because he _was_ already the Pokemon master, and one of the youngest ever in the League. 

"I'm so glad for both of you." He smiled, hugging his old friends. As he stepped back, however, she still held on to him, hugging him tightly. He felt his throat closed up, and fought to regain the control of his emotions. When she released him, her eyes were shiny with tears. 

"It's been too long…" she said softly. Laughing, she wiped away her tears. "I'm just happy to see you, Brock. And so happy…" Here, she took her husband-to-be by the arm, and gave him a squeeze. "…to be…here."

"The three of us, together again. I'm so relieved that you made it, Brock." She added happily.

"I'm the best man, aren't I? I wouldn't miss it for the world. I mean, wow, the two of you…" his voice trailed off, and he grinned at them.

_I wouldn't miss it for the world._

He was a complete liar. But what was he to do? 

He thought that that was the worst moment of the day, pretending to be happy when he really wasn't…and he hated himself for that. He shouldn't have to act as if he was delighted. His wish for their blissful lives should have been genuine. Should have been…

But the pain he felt then was nothing compared to the pain he felt when standing at the altar, giving the ring to him…invisible hands wrapped around his heart, and squeezed it excruciatingly. 

"And I pronounce you man and wife…"

-

"It's just, well, we never seem to have time for each other anymore."

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, choosing to avoid her intense gaze by sipping his hot cappuccino. 

"And I just want to know the reason." She continued on.

He cleared his throat, setting the cup back on its saucer. "There's…well, the lab takes up a lot of my time, Misty."

"You can't even spare a lousy hour for dinner with Ash and me?" She shook her head. "You're avoiding us. We haven't seen you since the wedding three years ago. Each and every time, you were always _busy_." Hurt filled her eyes. "Don't you…want to keep the friendship between us?"

What he wanted from her, was more than what she could offer. A reassuring laugh emitted from his throat, he covered her hand with his for a short moment. "Don't be silly, Misty. I _have_ been busy for the past years, that's the truth. The lab is expanding, and new Pokemon are discovered day by day. It just takes up a lot of my time. But from now on, I will make time for the both of you."

"After all, you are so very important to me." 

She smiled back at him, her face showing relief. 

"I just don't want to lose you, that's all. You're my, our, best friend!"

_And I've already lost you. _

-

"He doesn't want children." She said sadly, looking at her hands.

He sat down beside her on the bench, and handed her an iced-tea he bought from a nearby stall. "Why?"

She shrugged. "He said he didn't have much time for parenting at the moment." Her tone was flippant, but he saw the quiet sadness in her. Because he knew that it was one of her many dreams to start a family of her own.

He smiled at her, his manner comforting.  "It's just a matter of time. Give him more time to ready himself. After all…being a father…well, it's not easy. And it _would_ scare some men. It doesn't mean that he didn't want children, ever." 

He laughed then. "It just reminded me of the times when we were young, how Ash always managed to get himself into the worst scrapes. At that time, I felt more like a father than a friend, or an older brother."

His laughter quieted wistfully. "And now, the kid was on the way to becoming a father himself."

He turned to her, scratching the back of his head ruefully. "I'm getting old."

She punched him on the shoulder. "I'm glad you're realizing it. And it's about time you get yourself a…"

He cut her off by standing up. "I could use another iced-tea. What about you?"

He was evading the subject, as always, and she knew it, and chose not to push him. For all his skirt-chasing days as a teenager, her best friend had yet to settle down. And he never wanted to talk about it. 

"Hey, Brock."

He turned, then. She grinned at him. "Thanks for being here with me. It helps a lot."

The corners of his lips lifted slightly, and he fought to hide his secret regret, as always. "I'm always here, Misty."

_I'll always be here to ensure your happiness._

-

She swung slowly on the swing, pumping her feet gently, swaying gently to the faint breeze. He stood by her quietly, his hands jammed into his pockets. A silence, not an uncomfortable one, settled between the two friends. 

She was the one who spoke first. Resting her feet on the ground, her swinging came to a stop, but still she gripped the chain links of the swing. Her shoulders slumped, and she emitted a long sigh.

"Ash never has time for me anymore." She said simply, not without a trace of resentment. 

A short pause hung in the air for a while, before he replied. "He _is_ the Pokemon Master, Misty. There are certain duties he must fulfill."

"And I knew it when I married him." She admitted. But I never expected it to be…this way." 

"This way?" He echoed.

"This…missed dinners, late nights…I'm lucky if I manage to see him for two hours at a time." She said bitterly. 

"Have you tried talking to him?"

She shook her head. "I never see him long enough to talk to him. Each and every time I tried to talk, he implored me to understand about his schedules. But he…what did he understand about me? My needs? Did he even try?"

She laughed weakly. "I don't have a married life, Brock. I might as well not have a husband." 

"I…feel…"

"…so alone…"

"…alone…"

Turning to him, she rested her head against him, and began crying. And he could only hold her comfortingly, be there for her, her best friend.

It was all he could do. 

-

"We're getting a divorce."

A huge bolt of shock ran through him as she made the statement, her eyes dry. 

"Are…you sure?"

"I can't take it. Not anymore." 

It seemed like only yesterday when he watched the both of them on that altar, looking so blissfully in love, radiant with so much joy and happiness. A life filled with promise and hope.

Now she sat before him like a shattered dream, a shadow, a woman tired by a half-completed marriage, a woman hardened with sorrow and unpleasant experiences. 

Yet, he still loved her. He still loved her…

He didn't want her to make a mistake that she would regret for the rest of her life.

"Think about it, Misty." He said gently. "Think long and hard about it before you make up your mind. Like marriage, divorce should not be taken lightly. It should not come out in a fit of anger. You and Ash…you've been through so much together. And you are so in love…"

"Were." She interrupted. "We _were_ so in love, Brock." She let out a shuddering breath, and looked at him squarely, the first sign of tears welling in her sad eyes.

"It's over."

-

They strolled side by side, after a casual dinner together. He sneaked a look at her, at her seemingly calm and peaceful face. 

It was two years after the divorce, and it was the time it took for her to mend her broken heart, and rebuild her life without her husband. They remained politely civil, and to his disappointment, his friendship with the younger man began to wan. Often, he felt resentment from his best friend. Resentment because of…? He never knew, never found out.

They stopped at a bridge overlooking a bubbling brook, a quiet sense of calm settling over them.

"Have you ever thought…after Ash. That you'll be…?" He just had to know. Had to ask.

"Perhaps. When I am ready."

"Are you?"

She thought about it, long and hard. Then she smiled. "Yes. I think I am."

"Ah."

Was this the moment? Should he?

He was yet reminded of the lost chance, all those years ago. He didn't want to miss another one.

"If I were to tell you…" He took her hand in his. "…that all this while, I…" His voice trailed off. "I…" It was hard for him to continue, as he looked at her with a hopeful expression. 

But his meanings were evident, as her eyes widened in surprise.

"…Brock…"

His gaze was intense. "Could we…?"

For a moment, she returned his squeeze on her hand, her eyes never leaving his face. She scrutinized him for a long moment, contemplating, wondering.  A beginning of a smile, something glimmering in her eyes…and then abruptly, her expression closed, and she took her hand out of his.

"…I…sorry…" 

And he understood…perfectly.

"I'm sorry, too."

She didn't want to look at him. As for him…he took the gamble, he took the chance, and all the same, he missed it.

He missed it…and lost her…she could never reciprocate. Because he was her best friend, and it was all he could be to her. 

And it was that moment, that he told himself, that gradually, he would have to let go. Let go of all his feelings…for her.

-

It was almost four years later when they met again. By accident, by chance. 

For they never spoke since that fateful day all those years ago. By an unspoken agreement, they ceased contact. Because both of them understood, that it was impossible for them…to be the same. Ever again.

Four years later, and she was still the same. Slim, graceful, beautiful, and a successful Water Pokemon Master and the respected Gym Master of the Cerulean Gym. She had chosen to return to her hometown. 

Things were awkward. As they never was. Not between them. 

They stood about a foot from each other, uneasily. She wrung her hands, and spoke first. "H…How are you?"

"Good. You're doing well?"

"Yes."

Silence had never been uncomfortable for them. But there was a first for everything. 

She took a step forward, conflicting feelings fleeting across her lovely face. "Brock…I…" A faint smile appeared.

At that moment, his wife chose to appear, and hooked her arm through his. 

Her face fell. And he saw it. He saw everything. 

The slight clenching of her fists. The slip of her smile. The carefully masked surprise. The shadows of…regret. 

And he knew. 

"My wife. Jenny." 

She smiled shakily. "After all these years, so you managed…"

He returned her smile, unsteady as well. "Yes."

The three of them stood awkwardly for a moment, and she lowered her eyes to the ground.

"It…well…I hoped…it was pleasant…I mean…goodbye, Brock." She raised her head to meet his gaze.

Emotions flickered in both of their faces. Feelings that would be inappropriate to express. Longing that would never be fulfilled. Love…that would never be. 

He loved her, but he could not wait forever. 

And so they parted, him and her, both going opposite ways. 

Their chosen paths. 

Leaving behind…each other. 

Leaving behind…only memories.

-

_Somehow, I know you are in love with me. _

_Somehow, I always took it for granted._

_Somehow, I know, no matter what, you will be here for me._

_Somehow, I thought we would always be together. Always. _

_Somehow, along the way, I lost you._

_And when I realised…the chance was gone. _

_Somehow, we always missed each other. _

_Forever, I will remember this love. I will remember what we could have._

_And so, thank you for everything.  _

_Thank you…_

  
  
-Finis-  
  


da*mouse ®  
posted December 12th 2003

I haven't watched Pokemon in a million years, or wrote anything for it for that matter. So my apologies if it came off totally crappy and OOC…I know I've butchered Brock's and Misty's personalities to some extent. 

If anyone's confused, the last bit was Misty's internal monologue.

So review/comment/flame/whatever, feedback is most appreciated. Let me know whether this was worth the time taken to read. :) But if it sucks beyond paradise, rest assured that this is the only Brock/Misty fic I'll ever write. So don't worry about me ruining the quality of Gymshippy fics. ^_~


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